The Mentalist: Silent Knight
by Donnamour1969
Summary: NOW COMPLETE! On an icy December night, Kimball Cho reconnects with his first love. It'll be a Christmas miracle if this Silent Knight can overcome his fears and find the love he richly deserves (especially if Jane and Lisbon have anything to say about it.) Romantic Christmas fun, spiced with a little Jisbon too. Rated T/M for language and adult situations.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Call this the long good-bye, but I can't seem to stay away, at least not for long, so here I am again. It always struck me as sad that Cho was left without anyone close in his life at the end of the show, so here is my Christmas remedy for that. I'm not sure how long it will be, but I promise it will give Cho the happy ending he deserved. It will be fluffy at times, given that it's a Christmas fic, and I hope to show a side of Cho we don't often see, but I know that, given the books he reads, he has to be a romantic at heart. I hope you enjoy it.**

 **Silent Knight (Thanks for the title idea from Hayseed Socrates!)**

 **Chapter 1**

 _I should have driven the company SUV home_ , thought Kimball Cho, as the ice continued to sluice over the windshield of his new Camaro—a gift to himself after becoming Supervisory Special Agent for the Austin branch of the FBI.

But Cho had grown up in Oakland, California, and this was his very first ice storm. He had terribly misjudged how quickly the weather could deteriorate in Austin, how the ice would accumulate on the windshield wipers faster than his defroster could keep up. The roads had gone from wet to slick in minutes, and he reduced his speed to 25 mph, his leather-clad grip tightening on the steering wheel as he leaned forward to see into the darkness past the heavy freezing rain. It was all he could do to stay between the lines of the road. He could feel the ice catching at his tires, felt the helplessness as he lost control of his steering wheel for brief, terrifying moments.

The radio warned of the hazardous conditions, advising motorists to stay off the roads if at all possible.

"Yeah, no shit," he muttered, turning off the radio in annoyance.

The other vehicles around him seemed oblivious to the storm, driving at crazy speeds without regard to the obvious danger. He shook his head at them, and reduced his speed to 20. He shouldn't have been too surprised when the compact car slid across the road in front of him, obviously out of control, gliding over the ice rink highway just inches in front of him. Without thinking, Cho slammed on his breaks to avoid plowing into the car as it passed into his lane.

This was his second mistake of the day.

It was true what they said about time seeming to slow down in the midst of an accident, for as Cho struggled with the Camaro to find traction, he had time to notice the sickening sensation of his control slipping completely away, his feet useless on both the accelerator and the brake. He felt the hard jolt of the car behind him as it clipped the tail of the driver's side, sending him spinning like a top on a frozen lake, sliding toward the steep embankment at the side of the road. He heard the hiss of the ice beneath him as he skidded; saw the streetlight looming before him, first from his right, then finally the left, as he spun inexorably closer. He reflexively closed his eyes, bracing for impact. When it came, all the front airbags deployed, and he was surrounded by cushioning pillows and the acrid smell of sudden compressed air. A fine powdery substance filled the interior like smoke, and his seatbelt had done its job, pressing him hard against his seat.

When Cho realized that he was, in fact, alive and not horribly mangled in the crash, he slowly opened his eyes. The streetlight had pushed his passenger side door so far in that he could touch it on the driver's side, but he refrained in horror from doing so. With his head erect now, he realized his face had gone numb, and he suddenly tasted the blood he knew must be pouring from his bruised nose.

 _Jesus._

He wanted nothing more than to rest his head against the cushioned steering wheel for a moment, but as he inhaled the air bag powder, he began to cough uncontrollably. Cho struggled for the door handle beneath the deflating side bag, managing to push open the door as the ice continued to click against his windshield mockingly, his wipers still struggling vainly to keep up.

"Sir, are you all right?"

Cho looked up in surprise at the petite, parka-clad figure standing before him. Still coughing, he took in great gulps of fresh, cold air, nodding his reply. The woman held open the door against the wind as she peered down into his wrecked car.

The interior light had come on with the open door, augmented by the resilient streetlight above them. The cold woke him up from his initial shock, the fresh air clearing his lungs somewhat. He heard the crunch of lug-soled boots on the churned up ice beside his car, felt the damp, mittened hands of his rescuer, quickly and efficiently touching his face and neck first, then his thighs and calves, obviously checking for injuries.

He looked up into her face then, noticed in one glance several things at once: a sage green stocking cap pulled low over her forehead; omber curls peeping out near her slim neck; a hint of rose on her high cheekbones and nose from the cold; full pink lips that, even in his diminished state, made him think of sensual kisses. But it was her eyes that captivated him the most. They were the exact color of her cap-bright, intelligent, and startlingly pale against her caramel complexion. Once upon a time, these same green eyes had haunted Cho's dreams, and although he hadn't looked into them in years, he would have known them anywhere. At that same moment, the woman recognized him as well, those amazing eyes widening in a different kind of shock.

"Kimball," she whispered.

"Avery," he replied in disbelief, the name rising to his lips from a long-hidden place in his memory. He'd said it in his mind often enough, especially in those first years without her, but Cho had not spoken it aloud since the day the U-haul had taken her and her family away from him.

She touched his cheek once more in wonder, but then they both jumped as a clap of thunder shook the night, and the freezing rain increased tenfold.

"Let's get you out of here and into my warm car," she yelled over the din, her voice urgent and professional once more. "You think you can move?"

"Yeah," he said, and he swung his legs out into the icy deluge.

At the last minute he leaned back in toward the crumpled passenger side.

"Wait," he said.

He managed to grab his leather jacket, now covered with fine white powder. He was grateful to feel the weight of his cell phone still inside the front pocket. He turned off the car's start button and pocketed his key ring as well. With a deep breath, he gripped the top edge of the car. He was dressed for work in his leather-soled dress shoes, so he knew he would have a rough time navigating the slick street back to her car. His legs felt weak at first from the accident, and he stood in the downpour a moment, trying to steady himself before gingerly putting his jacket on over his wet and dusty suit coat. He must have teetered a bit, for Avery grabbed hold of his arm so he wouldn't fall.

"You okay?"

"I think so," he said shakily.

Her practical snow boots allowed her to walk much more confidently, but it was a slow and perilous trek for Cho, and he feared he would take them both down if his shoes gave out beneath him.

Finally, after a few close calls, they made it to her blue SUV, still running, the windshield wipers flapping frantically, the heater and defrost going full blast inside. He climbed inside with relief as she shut the door, the wind catching it with a strident bang.

He watched dazedly as she crossed carefully before her vehicle's headlights, then made it to the driver's seat.

"Seatbelts," she cautioned, putting on her own. She took off her wet cap and tossed it in the backseat, fluffing her curls absently. He resisted the insane urge to reach out and touch them. She turned to him with a smile, and Cho felt his heart clench with painful familiarity.

"It'll be slow-going, but I think we can make it into the hospital. It's only about a mile to the exit."

"I don't need a doctor," he said, grabbing a handful of tissues from the travel- sized box in the console. He pressed them to his bleeding nose.

"Too late," she said, now focusing on merging safely into the lights of oncoming traffic. "You've already got one."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Avery was too focused on driving down the treacherous highway to say much more, which was certainly all right with the normally taciturn Cho. But as the fog from the accident finally lifted from his mind, his thoughts spun faster than his wrecked Camaro with questions.

 _What the hell was she doing in Austin?_

 _Where had she been the last twenty-five years?_

 _And since when had she become a doctor?_

 _Was she married? With children?_

He must have been still in shock from the wreck, for he couldn't seem to make any of the questions form on his lips.

It took them a grueling half-hour to make it to the hospital, but at last Avery pulled up beneath the covered portico of the Emergency Room of Austin General Hospital. She hopped out and looked back at her passenger.

"Hold on a second," she told him, then ran in through the sliding doors and spoke quickly with the nurse at the front desk. The nurse returned behind her with a wheelchair.

"I'm fine," Cho insisted, but something in Avery's voice and expression broke down his usual stubbornness, and he remembered with a bemused shake of his head that she had always had that affect on him. And so he found himself letting her help him into the chair, even though he could have easily walked in under his own steam. She wheeled him into the waiting area and left him there with a promise to return.

Inside the warm safety of the ER, things were just starting to get very busy, as ambulances arrived carrying other accident victims in much worse shape than Cho. He had a sinking feeling that this storm would bring many more, and glancing up at the silent television mounted on the wall, he could see the animation on the weatherman's face as he warned that the worst was yet to come.

As if on cue, the lights in the hospital briefly flickered, and those around him paused in dread-filled anticipation, sighing in relief when the power remained on. Someone had taken the time to decorate the waiting area with a bit of tinsel and ribbon for the holidays, no doubt with the intent of lending a bit of cheer to the frightened and injured. He wondered if Avery had had anything to do with it; Christmas had always been her favorite holiday.

Avery returned, her parka replaced with a white doctor's coat and her boots with comfortable sneakers. Her ID badge told him her last name hadn't changed, which gave him a pleasing jolt that he quickly tamped down. Her name didn't mean anything anyway; women used their maiden names professionally all the time. Not that it mattered. Twenty-five years was a very long time…

She was peering into his eyes with a penlight now, nodding to herself in satisfaction. He could smell her hair, some light fresh fragrance that reminded him of spring, along with the faint scent of winter for their sojourn outside. She wore no perfume that he could detect, but the soap she had used smelled of bright citrus, her soft breath laced with cinnamon mouthwash. She stood tantalizingly close to him, and the teenage heart of him stirred with a re-awakened longing.

She gave him an icepack for his nose, which thankfully had stopped bleeding.

"Except for a pretty impressive shiner, you'll live," she pronounced with a grin. "Not so sure about your pretty new car though."

Cho blanched. "It was a good car."

"You always wanted one," she reminded him slyly.

"Yeah." She obviously remembered that it had been a Camaro he'd taken joyriding when he was fourteen. He didn't know why, but Cho felt his face flush a little in remembrance. He hid it with the ice pack.

"Doctor Brooks," called a nurse, as another ambulance arrived.

"Sit tight, Kimball. No sense trying to get home in this weather."

He nodded. "Thanks."

And then she was off, seeing to other arriving patients.

Cho watched her from a distance, noted her easy skill and composure under pressure. She expertly triaged the arrivals, delivering orders to the nurses and interns with admirable command. He could tell she was very good at her job. He also admired the graceful sway of her hips, the straightening of her shoulders as she worked. Nothing was sexier to him than a confident woman.

With a sigh, he retrieved his cell phone from his coat and called Teresa Lisbon.

"Hey, Cho, did you make it home okay?"

"No, actually," he said. "I'm at Austin General."

"What?"

"Nothing serious, just a bloody nose from the air bag and my neck's starting to ache. Whiplash, maybe."

"What happened?"

He related to his former boss in his typically succinct manner everything that had happened leading up to the accident, but when it came to Dr. Avery Brooks, once he began talking about her, he couldn't seem to stop himself. He actually imparted the details of his long-ago history with Avery-albeit a very brief account—but for Cho, it was like an emotional wellspring had burst forth from within.

"Wow," commented Jane when Cho finished his story. "Of all the icy roads in all the towns in all the world…"

"Yeah," said Cho, feeling embarrassed now that he'd shared so much, especially with Patrick Jane.

He heard the fussy babbling of a small child very near his ear, and he knew Lisbon must be holding little Samuel on her hip. At nearly a year old, he was getting to be quite the handful.

"Sorry," said Lisbon as the infant cried over them. "He wants his dinner."

"You want me to come and get you?" asked Jane, taking the phone from his wife. "Lisbon's SUV should make it, easy."

"No thanks," said Cho. "No sense your going out into this mess. I'll see if I can hitch a ride from a state trooper. I saw one escorting one of the ambulances in."

"Okay. Well, glad you're all right, Kimball. Sorry to hear about your car, though. That was one sweet ride, and you hadn't even let me drive it yet."

"Yeah," said Cho, his lips quirking. "Too bad." As if he would have let lead-foot Jane ever drive it anyway. "Tell Lisbon to stay home tomorrow if the roads are still bad."

"Will do."

They said their goodbyes and Cho rose from his wheelchair, suddenly tired of sitting when there was so much activity around him. His eyes searched the ER, but Avery was nowhere to be found, and he tried to suppress his disappointment. A Texas State Trooper was updating his notes about the condition of an accident victim, when Cho approached him, FBI identification and badge at the ready. He explained his situation.

"I'd appreciate a lift back to my office when you get the chance," said Cho.

The trooper smiled, and Cho noted the good-natured expression of superiority at having something over a federal agent.

"Sure, Agent Cho. Anything to help the Feds. Give me about five minutes, and we can clear out."

"Thanks."

At that moment, Avery emerged from a draped off exam room. She caught Cho's eye from across the room, frowned that he was out of his chair, then, after conferring with a nurse at the front desk, made her way over to him in the waiting area. As she walked toward him, Cho felt his pulse accelerate.

"Hey," she said, "I don't remember releasing you from my care."

Cho very nearly smiled. "I was never actually admitted," he countered.

She reached up suddenly and brushed her hand through his short hair; Cho's heart gave a little flip. Powder from the air bag drifted around him like snow, and she grinned.

"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas in here."

This time, he did smile, and his dimples transformed his face. She stepped hastily away as if burned, for the first time that night showing a hint of uncertainty. Cho felt his body go warm, his smile fading.

"I, uh—" he cleared his throat. "I found a ride back to my office."

Her face returned to its pleasant, professional mask. "Good. But I wish you'd consider staying the night for observation. You could have a concussion…"

"I'm fine. My nose even stopped bleeding."

"I see that."

They both stood at a loss, neither of them wanting to say goodbye. They met each other's eyes, brown and green mutually transfixed.

"Well, thanks," said Cho finally, looking casually away.

"I'm happy I could help."

Cho nodded once, his throat tight. There was so much he wanted to say, so much to ask, but his old shyness—what some still misconstrued as aloofness—tied his tongue.

"Agent Cho?" called the trooper from near the exit. "You ready?"

"Yeah," he replied, eyes still on Avery.

"Dr. Brooks?" She was being paged too, by a nurse with a computer tablet.

"Agent?" said Avery, eyebrows raised.

"FBI," said Cho, and he felt a keen sense of pride at his occupation. Last time she'd known him, he was being recruited by the Avon Park Playboys.

"Code Blue! Code Blue! Dr. Brooks!"

"Sorry, Kimball. Duty calls."

"Thanks," he repeated.

"You already said that," she said over her shoulder, the smile he remembered so well the last thing he saw as she jogged down the hall.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Well that's odd," said Jane, joining Lisbon in the kitchen to watch her slip another bite of strained peas into their son's open mouth.

"I know. Samuel didn't used to like peas—"

Jane chuckled and bent to kiss the top of her head indulgently. "No, my love, I mean that call from Cho."

Her eyebrows narrowed, and she lowered the baby's spoon. "Oh. Sorry. I've got mommy brains today. You mean how he went on and on about that Avery person? I admit I have never in all our years of working together heard him discuss a woman from his personal life."

"Me neither," said Jane with a nod. "By the way he gushed over her—well, gushed _Cho_ style-she must have been his _one_."

Samuel began grunting in frustration and scooting toward his mother in his high chair. Lisbon dutifully brought the spoon back to his mouth, grinning at his appetite. He definitely got that from his father, she mused.

"You mean his one true love? His soulmate?"

"I suppose, if you believe in that sort of thing. I was actually meaning Avery was his one that got away. Our Cho is a pretty tough nut to crack—even for me—but I'd say his nut cracker goes by the name of Dr. Avery Brooks, by the way he spoke of her. Unfortunately, I'll bet you a hot fudge sundae that he leaves without getting her number."

Lisbon opened a second jar of baby food. Apricots this time. Jane automatically changed places with his wife, taking the spoon from her hand and sitting at the kitchen table, while she went to the sink to wash the peas off her hands. They were a good team.

"Here comes the rocket ship little man," said Jane, his smile big as Texas as he poised the spoon in the air.

"You really think Cho would rediscover the love of his life and just walk away?" asked Lisbon, leaning her back against the counter. Her woman's heart rebelled against the very idea. But then, she thought about how she'd waited for years for Jane to admit he loved her, and had almost thrown everything away herself because of her own shyness and fear.

"What do you think he's been doing these past twenty-five years, Teresa? He's been purposefully staying away. He's had access to law enforcement data all this time and hasn't once tracked her down and gone to see her. Something's holding him back. I'd say she hurt him so terribly he never wants to experience that kind of pain again."

"But they're both older—"

"There's no statute of limitations on a broken heart, Lisbon."

Lisbon smirked. "Now that's profound. Well, this explains why Cho's never married, why he's never been serious about anyone that I know of. Except maybe Summer Edgecomb, and he never actually admitted they were involved—a mistake when all your friends are government agents."

"Obviously he was too embarrassed that she was an ex-hooker with a nasty drug habit. He thought he could save her, but learned the hard way that some people just can't be redeemed."

Lisbon handed Jane a damp towel to wipe Samuel's mouth and hands.

"I don't believe that," she said to her once ne'er do well husband. "But at any rate, Summer obviously wasn't the one for him. But how do we know this Dr. Avery is? I mean, I certainly wouldn't want my first love back. You met him-can you see him with me now?"

Jane picked up the now satiated Samuel and cuddled him to his shoulder, then pulled his wife to his side with his free hand. "Absolutely not," he whispered. "But then, he wasn't your one true love, was he?"

He bent and kissed her softly on the mouth. Samuel squirmed between them and his parents laughed, parting reluctantly.

"Some other man has come between us already," said Lisbon, kissing Samuel's damp cheek.

They family moved into the newly refurbished living room of their country cottage, Jane setting the baby on a blanket on the floor. The fresh pine scent of their Christmas tree suffused the air, their three stockings hung above the merrily crackling fire. Samuel immediately crawled to the coffee table, where he pulled himself up on shaky legs to grin triumphantly at his parents. He was on the verge of taking his first steps.

"Keep trying, Sammy," said Jane. "You'll be chasing after girls before you know it."

Lisbon punched her husband in the arm, none too gently. "Stop! It's way too early to put such ideas into his head."

"Oh, he'll have those ideas as soon as he's able to chase them, trust me," he said, rubbing his sore arm with a grin.

Lisbon shook her head. They were silent a few minutes, watching Samuel snake his way around the coffee table, his tiny hands holding on for balance. Lisbon glanced at her husband and frowned, able to see after all these years when those wheels of his were turning in his brilliant mind.

"Don't even think about it, Jane."

"What?" he said innocently.

"Playing matchmaker with Cho and Avery."

Jane shrugged. "Sometimes a man needs a little push, an ultimatum even, to realize what's really good for him."

He met his wife's eyes, and she had no trouble applying his meaning to their own complicated love story.

"And sometimes, outsiders just need to mind their own damn business and stay out of people's lives," she countered.

"True," he admitted, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. "But hey, if it isn't meant to be, it won't happen, right, Mrs. Jane?" He was playing the Destiny card, one that he didn't really believe in for a moment, but one he knew _she_ did.

Warmth flooded her, starting from where his lips rested on her palm and working its way to her cheeks, then lower. The bastard knew he could win any argument now just by kissing her, and she was helpless to deny him when he was looking at her like this. She cupped his lightly stubbled cheek with her palm and he leaned in to her caress like a cat.

"Don't blame me if the whole thing blows up in your face, Dolly Levi," she whispered, meeting his heated gaze.

Samuel's sudden laughter interrupted them again, and they looked over to see their son, standing on his own without holding onto the table.

"Look at you, big boy!" cried Lisbon, her eyes watering with glee. She dropped to her knees a small distance before him, holding out her hands in hopes that he might walk to her.

A smile, so like his father's, split his dimpled cheeks at her approval.

Jane watched them, surprised anew at his endless capacity for happiness.

"Come to Mommy," Lisbon encouraged.

Samuel lunged at her in excitement, but unfortunately, after only one step, wobbled backward and landed on the floor upon his diaper-padded bottom. Lisbon picked him up and kissed his angelic blonde curls, inhaling his baby scent of lotion and jarred apricots. He didn't tolerate her affection for long, however, wriggling to get out of her embrace to try again.

"That's the spirit, kid," said Jane, chuckling at his son's antics. "Never let a woman hold you back."

As Samuel began his journey around the coffee table again, Jane thought of Cho, alone in that spartan apartment of his, nothing to come home to but a football game on TV and a frozen dinner. Jane had lived that way himself too long to wish that painful isolation upon anyone. He supposed it had a lot to do with the newfound Christmas spirit he never dreamed he would have again.

He resolved that, as soon as the roads were passable, he would make a trip into town. Maybe makes some inquiries at Austin General. After all, it was his duty as a friend to give Cho the push he needed, whether he liked it or not.

Jane's mind set on his plan, he dropped to the floor beside his wife and child, the lights from the tree sparkling in his eyes.

A/N: More to come soon! Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Firstly, thank you so much for your wonderful reviews of Chapter 1. I'm sorry I haven't answered them directly, but this has been a rough couple of weeks for me. My husband had back surgery, and then suddenly, my dad was in the hospital for kidney failure. Both are doing well now, but life happened, and obviously my story wasn't a priority. Still, I had written this chapter in my mind as I tried to go to sleep each night; I merely lacked the time to write it down. Now that I am on Christmas break, I should have more time, barring any other emergencies. I hope this was worth the wait.

 **Chapter 2**

"Boss?"

Jason Wylie's soft call brought Cho slowly from a deep sleep, which had been filled with half-memories swirled together with new images of the beautiful Avery Brooks.

When there didn't seem to be any sign of him awakening, Wylie resorted to a tentative touch to Cho's shoulder.

"Boss? Sorry to wake you, sir, but people are starting to come in…"

Cho opened his eyes, and the first sound he heard was the dripping of water outside the window. The ice was melting.

He sat up abruptly, causing Wylie to stumble back a step in surprise.

"Sorry," the junior agent repeated, wide-eyed. "Were you stuck here all night?"

"Yeah," Cho replied succinctly, rubbing his tired eyes.

When the trooper had dropped him off the night before, the weather had deteriorated so much that Cho had decided he wouldn't risk wrecking a company SUV. So, after filching a container of Lisbon's yogurt and a couple slices of leftover pizza from the break room fridge, he'd curled up on Jane's old couch and snuggled beneath the throw blanket, listening to the steady click of the ice against the window behind him.

Sleep, however, had eluded him for several hours, and it had little to do with being stranded at the office or with the annoying way the couch still molded to a certain ex-consultant's body, and definitely not to Cho's. No, he stayed awake because his pulse still hummed with the excitement of seeing Avery again after all these years. He kept replaying every moment from that night, kicking himself that he hadn't asked her to meet for drinks or coffee or maybe even dinner. Blearily glancing at his watch, he realized he'd maybe gotten three hours of sleep.

"Well," Wylie was continuing, in that bright earnestness that was particularly grating after a sleepless night. "A warm front came in, and the temperature is going to be in the fifties today. The roads were pretty bad this morning, but clearing fast since it's already above freezing. Welcome to Texas, right?"

Cho merely nodded.

"Hey, how'd you get those two black eyes?" Wylie asked, his brows knitting in concern.

"Long story."

Wylie knew better than to question him further. If the boss wanted to share, he'd share.

"I'm going downstairs to shower and shave," Cho said, getting to his feet. He grabbed his suit jacket where he'd draped it over Lisbon's nearby chair, frowned that it was still damp, then slipped on his loafers. The training facility in the basement housed a serviceable shower, and in his locker he had a clean shirt, underwear, and a tie for times when a case kept him from going home.

"We still having that staff meeting in an hour?"

Cho gritted his teeth. He couldn't believe seeing Avery had so unnerved him that he'd forgotten all about the meeting that he was supposed to conduct.

 _Shit._

"Yeah. Get those folders from my office and distribute them around the fish bowl table."

"Copy that," said Wylie, smiling.

Nothing worse than a morning person to the sleep deprived, thought Cho bitterly.

"Do me a favor and make sure the coffee's fresh in the break room, will ya?"

"Will do."

"Thanks." He hated treating Wylie like a secretary, but he promised himself he'd make it up to the guy. _After_ he'd had his coffee.

The hot water felt like heaven as Cho stood beneath the pounding spray. His muscles still ached from the accident, his head too, and he wished he'd stopped by his desk to grab a handful of ibuprofen.

As the moments ticked by and he began to wake up, an image from his dreams last night assailed him, and he closed his eyes against the sweet pain of it, resting his aching head against the cool tile of the shower. It was 1989, and Avery's slim body was warm beneath his…

" _You don't have to go through with this," Kimball said, his voice raspy with desire._

" _Don't you want to?"_

 _They were naked in her twin-sized bed, her parents gone for the evening. At sixteen, neither of them was probably ready for sex, but hormones had gotten the better of them. However, being the Type A personalities they both were, they'd planned this moment down to the optimistic twelve-pack box of condoms on the nightstand. She'd even lit candles for ambiance, and Kimball tried to avoid the eyes of Janet Jackson and New Kids on the Block looking down on them from their posters on the wall._

 _Avery wriggled a little beneath him, and he gasped, then groaned, closing his eyes. God. All he had to do was move a little and it would be over. His virginity would be an unpleasant memory._

" _You don't even know how much I want this," he managed. But he was also terrified. He wondered if the condom was on right, or if he would hurt her, or if he had the staying power to make it good for them both._

 _He felt her small hand caress his cheek, willing him to open his eyes and look down into those tempting pools of green._

" _I want my first time to be with you," she told him. "I love you."_

 _She'd never said that to him before._ _ **No**_ _girl had ever said that to him before._

 _He reached down and gently brushed her curly hair back from her forehead, his gaze softening with emotion. He swallowed._

 _Here goes nothing, he thought._

" _I love you too," he told her, pleased his voice only trembled a little._

" _Then let's do this," she said bravely, smiling up at him with straight, white teeth newly free of braces._

 _He bent and kissed her, and suddenly, all his fears melted away…_

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Avery sighed and took off her white coat, hanging it in the doctors' locker room. It had been a long night. Lots of accidents from the ice, but fortunately, only one fatality and one emergency surgery. It had been surreal in more ways than one, least of all from the intensity of the storm. Avery was normally pretty good at putting aside personal issues when she was working, but forgetting about seeing Kimball Cho after nearly three decades had been a constant struggle last night. Now, as she untied her surgical cap, all the thoughts and memories that she'd pushed away came flooding back, and she closed her eyes, her hands covering her face as she sat on the bench near her locker.

She remembered the very last time she'd seen him before she saw him crash his Camaro into a light pole. It had been 1990, and she was sitting in the passenger seat of her mother's old Plymouth, following her dad as he drove the U-Haul truck east. Kimball had sat on the stoop looking as devastated as she felt, and she couldn't even summon the energy to raise a forlorn hand to wave goodbye. She was as miserable as she had ever been in her young life, and indeed ever would be in the years that followed. But how had things gone so badly so quickly? Just a month before, she and Kimball had been so happy…

 _After their first time together, the pair of young lovers met as often as they could, sometimes in his house, sometimes in hers, sometimes beneath the bleachers of the school football stadium in the cover of darkness. They were young, but they both knew that what they had was special, that it was more than just sex between them. They were both passionate people; though those who didn't know Kimball on this level would be very surprised to hear it._

 _Making love had turned out to be more incredible than any of her fantasies, despite the sweet awkwardness that came with their inexperience. But what Avery loved most were the talks they shared afterwards, as Kimball enfolded her in his strong arms on a blanket on the soft grass. They laughed. They spoke in hushed whispers of their future plans. She would become a doctor; he, a pitcher for the Oakland A's. In two short years they would be able to begin living their dreams, and nothing could hold them back._

 _They told no one—not even their best friends—about their frequent interludes, and the secret of their love seemed to insulate them from the rest of the world, kept them safe from the violence of innercity Oakland, from the wrath of her father should he ever find out. They thought they were being smart, planning their meetings carefully, meeting only at her house when her mother was at work. What they didn't count on was her father's surprise return from his deployment to the Persian Gulf._

 _There wasn't a lock on Avery's bedroom door, and she and Kimball were so wrapped up in each other that neither of them heard the knock. Next thing she knew, Kimball was ripped violently from her arms, his naked behind literally kicked out of her room by her furious father._

" _Daddy!" she cried, pulling the blanket up to hide her own nudity. She watched as Kimball landed on the shag carpet on his knees, before her father tossed his jeans at him._

" _What the fuck were you thinking, you gangbanger punk? Sleeping with my daughter under my roof! I oughta tear your head off-"_

 _Kimball was hastily pulling on his pants, while Avery got out of bed, fearful for her lover's life. Her father was a Marine, his hands lethal weapons, and she had visions of Kimball beaten to a pulp before her eyes. She pushed her way past her father and into the hall, standing between him and Kimball, her hands holding the blanket to her breasts._

" _Daddy, please!"_

" _I suggest you get the hell out of the way, little girl, or you won't be sitting down for a month." His voice was low and dangerous, his dark eyes bright with fury._

 _Kimball was standing now, his broad shoulders and thickly muscled arms nothing to scoff at. He worked out faithfully, becoming as strong as he could to pitch the ball as hard as he could, to bat like a pro._

" _Leave her alone," said Kimball icily, pulling Avery protectively behind him. "This is my fault, not hers."_

 _As much as Avery admired that Kimball was defending her, she knew by the way her father's hands closed into hard fists, by the way he towered over Kimball by a good six inches, that the younger man would not win this fight._

" _You think you're a man, now, do you? That gang you hang out with teach you how to fight a Marine?" He laughed without humor. "I've put Iraqis down ten times as badass as some Korean banger wannabe." Her father advanced a menacing step. "I suggest you get the fuck out of my house and stay the hell away from my daughter, or shock and awe will be nothing to the shit storm that will rain down upon you."_

 _They were at an impasse, neither of them backing down; neither of them making a move that would make this thing more real._

" _I'll be okay, Kimball," she whispered near his ear. "Please, just go."_

 _Kimball turned to look at her, and that pleading look she reserved just for him had him once again willing to do whatever she asked. Even losing his honor._

" _If you hurt her, I'll kill you," Kimball said, his final stand._

 _Staff Sergeant Brooks's derisive laughter followed the barefoot young man out of her front door and out of her life forever._

 _Or, so she thought._

Avery's pager buzzed, and she looked at the message. Apparently someone wanted to see her at the ER desk. Her heart skipped a beat.

 _Had Kimball come back?_

She stopped in front of the mirror, fluffing her hair and putting on lip balm from her pocket as she hurried out of the locker room.

Her stomach dropped when she saw it wasn't Kimball, but a handsome blonde man with a killer smile. Then she noticed the sleeping little angel in the stroller parked beside him, and her cheeks stretched into an answering grin..

To her surprise, the man moved toward her as if they were old friends, extending his hand to take one of her cool hands between both of his warm ones.

"Avery, you're as lovely as I pictured you."

"Uh, thanks. And you are-?"

"Oh, sorry. Patrick Jane. And this is Samuel. We're friends of Kimball's. _Very_ good friends. Kimball is actually one of Samuel's godfathers."

"Nice to meet you both." Her forehead wrinkled suddenly in concern. "Is something wrong? Has Kimball been admitted-?"

"No, no. Nothing like that. I just wanted to thank you for rescuing him last night. I know he's very appreciative as well."

Avery smiled in relief. "I was glad I could be there."

"And what are the odds that not only a doctor, but an old friend would be the one to see the accident? Crazy. My wife thinks it must have been kismet."

"Maybe," she said, schooling her features. She wondered if this was some sort of fishing expedition on Kimball's behalf. If so, she didn't quite know how to feel about that. Was it weird, or was she flattered?

"I'm not here at Kimball's request," said Patrick Jane, as if reading her mind. "This is all me. As a matter of fact, he'd probably punch me in the nose if he knew I was here." But he didn't look particularly afraid.

She looked at him expectantly, and at the same time, felt him giving her the once over himself, but not in a sexual way. Clinically. Methodically. It wasn't a particularly comfortable experience.

"Then why risk it?" she asked, remembering Kimball's muscular arms with a slight shiver. Jane's eyes sparkled in quick recognition of her betrayed emotion. She crossed her arms over her chest defensively, then dropped them as she realized what she'd done.

"I'm here to ask," said Jane brightly, "if you'd like to go to a Christmas party at my house. Kimball will be there, and my wife of course, along with a few other close friends. All very casual and unthreatening. We would love to have you, to thank you as well as to get to know you better."

"Why?" She didn't dare to hope that Kimball-

Jane reached out his hand and wrapped it gently around her wrist, almost as if he were feeling her pulse. His smile grew softer, more understanding, his voice lower as he leaned closer.

"Let's not beat around the bush, shall we? You know why. Come to the party."

Avery opened her mouth in surprise, closed it, then opened it again, her green eyes wide. She pulled her hand from his.

Jane reached over to the ER desk, flashed his smile at the nurse who was sitting there and took the pen and sticky note he asked for. On the counter, he jotted down the directions to his cabin, then his cell number. For good measure, he put Cho's too. He tore off the yellow slip of paper and held it out to her.

"Tonight? Around 7?"

"Tonight?" she repeated, startled at the suddenness.

She looked from Jane's welcoming face down to his proffered note, stared at it for a few heavy moments, before taking it, almost against her will.

"Good," he said. "See you then."

The sound of a baby bottle hitting the floor took Jane's attention away, and he bent to retrieve it, but Avery had beaten him to it. Samuel held out his little hands, rocking up and down against his seatbelt and grunting a little for his bottle. Avery squatted down and held it out to him, chuckling softly. He took the bottle in his hands and found the nipple with his mouth, sucking greedily.

"Someone's hungry," she said, looking into his big green eyes. Avery reached out and tenderly touched the baby's soft, blonde curls.

"Such a sweetheart," she said under her breath. She looked up to see Jane looking down at her, grinning knowingly.

"You'll make a good mother someday."

She blushed and stood again.

"Seven o'clock," repeated Jane, wheeling the stroller back toward the exit. He seemed completely confident that she would come, and the stubborn nature that pushed her to graduate from medical school at the top of her class had her almost throwing the damned sticky note in the trash.

But as Avery watched the handsome, mysterious man depart, crooning softly to his infant son, a wild thought occurred to her. She looked down at the paper in her hand.

Here was her second chance. How many people got one of those, especially with their childhood sweetheart?

Kimball had spoken of her to a friend of his, had inspired Patrick Jane to invite her into Kimball's orbit again. Perhaps he wanted this too. But was it too late for them? They were two different people from those two love-struck kids of decades ago. This could all end in heartbreaking disappointment—for the second time.

 _Was it worth the risk?_

She remembered how she'd felt when she realized she was standing in the sleet with Kimball Cho. Warmth had seeped through her veins despite the bitter cold surrounding them. She hadn't felt that way for anyone since him.

There, she supposed, was her answer.

With a deep breath, she strode back to the locker room to retrieve her things. Her body was dead tired, but she knew she wouldn't be able to get to sleep until she stopped by the mall.

Dr. Avery Brooks had the sudden, impractical urge to buy a new dress.

 **A/N: I will continue to fill in the blanks of Cho and Avery's past, as well as update you on what our other old friends have been up to. Oh, yeah, and I definitely have a party to plan for Chapter 3. Thanks for hanging in there. More soon!**

 **PS: Someone asked me if I took the name Avery Brooks from the actor from** _ **Star Trek.**_ **That was completely unintentional, but a funny coincidence. I wondered why the name sounded familiar when I came up with it, lol. Note to self: Google it next time.**


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you for all the great reviews of chapter 2. So nice to be so kindly welcomed back. Here is a slightly silly, romantic chapter for your Christmas Eve, in which I have amped up the Jisbon a bit more for your enjoyment.

 **Chapter 3**

"Hey, Cho, "called Jane from his familiar place on the couch in the FBI bullpen, leg crossed, holding a cup of tea on his knee. Cho paused on his way to his office, then pivoted back toward Jane and Lisbon, who was sitting at her desk. Samuel was sleeping in his stroller nearby.

"Jane. I don't remember calling you in on a case," said Cho, frowning.

"You didn't. I'm still your consultant of last resort. I'm happy as a clam being a stay-at-home dad and live-in carpenter. No, I'm here bringing Christmas cheer… along with an invitation."

Lisbon looked up from her computer, swiveling slightly toward her husband.

"To what?" asked Cho, crossing his arms expectantly.

"A little get-together tonight at our place. Nothing fancy. Just you and a few mutual friends celebrating the holiday. What do ya say?"

Jane purposefully avoided Lisbon's eyes, which he could feel boring into him like angry green lasers.

"Will there be those little sausages in barbecue sauce?" Cho asked.

Jane smiled broadly. "Naturally."

"Mini quiches?"

"Wouldn't be a party without one."

"Beer?"

"Of course."

Cho's eyes narrowed suddenly. "There won't be any silly party games, will there?"

"Wouldn't think of it."

"Okay, then," said Cho. "Thanks."

"Seven o'clock."

With a nod to Lisbon, and a quick flash of dimples as he looked down at the sleeping baby, Cho continued on to his office.

Jane took a sip of his tea, his eyes alight with triumph.

"Hey, Mr. Christmas Cheer," Lisbon said tightly. "A party? _Tonight?_ What the hell, Jane?"

"Well, you're invited too, of course, my dear."

"Gee, thanks. And who is on this list of _friends_ you've invited without my prior knowledge or consent?"

"Well, in addition to you and Cho, there's Wylie and his plus one…and Avery Brooks."

Lisbon gasped. "You didn't."

"I did. Saw her at the hospital right before I came here to pick you up for lunch."

"You asked a perfect stranger into our home-?" She glanced with a frown at their son.

"Not exactly a stranger, Lisbon. She is an old friend of Cho's. And she's a doctor, remember?" As if that made all the difference.

"And she knows Cho will be there?"

"Yes. I believe mention of his name was all the impetus she needed to attend our little soiree. I hate to say I told you so."

"Since when?"

He smiled into his blue teacup.

Having finished his tea, he set the empty cup and saucer on the table behind the couch. Then, stifling a yawn, he stretched out his full length, his blonde head resting on the overstuffed armrest. "I have time for a cat nap before lunch, don't I, Lisbon?"

Lisbon had resumed typing her report. "A quick one. I'm almost finished with this and I'm starved. But don't you think you should skip lunch in lieu of the grocery store? Those little sausages won't barbecue themselves you know." She smirked at her own joke.

He crossed his arms over his chest, his lips forming a beatific grin.

"Relax, sweetheart. Samuel and I have everything under control. We're the men of the house, after all."

She rolled her eyes as he closed his, but then he shifted a little, trying in vain to get comfortable. His grin turned to a frown.

"Has somebody been sleeping on my couch?" he asked, annoyed.

Lisbon laughed. "Are you kidding? Nobody dares touch Jane's Couch. Go to sleep, Goldilocks."

He mumbled under his breath, sat up, smoothed out the leather, and lay down again. Soon he had drifted off, visions of warm canapés dancing in his head.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Being a bachelor, Cho was hard pressed to pass up a free, home-cooked meal, even if it was only hors d'oeuvres at the Janes'. Besides, the idea of spending another evening at his empty apartment suddenly seemed extremely depressing, especially around the holidays. What he needed was a night with his friends where he could maybe get Avery Brooks off his mind for a while.

The light of day had awakened him to the fact that she was his past, that what they had, had been puppy love at most, and trying to go back down that road would only lead to more disappointment and heartache. She had left him all those years ago. To be fair, it hadn't been her choice-the Marine Corps had re-assigned her father to a military base in Texas-but she could have written to him, told him her new address. Maybe even called him. But she hadn't, and as the weeks slipped by, Cho began to find solace in his new friends in the Avon Park Playboys.

The excitement of gang life made him forget about her, mostly. When his dad made him quit baseball because his grades were slipping, that pretty well sealed his fate to become what Avery's father had accused him of being all along—a no-good gangsta in one of the most feared gangs in Oakland.

Avery's re-entry into his life now brought back all those mistakes of his boyhood, reminded him of the other friends he'd lost, the way he'd almost screwed up his life for good. Cho knew it was unreasonable, but part of him still blamed Avery for that. In light of his inability to forgive her completely, trying to regain what they had lost seemed an impossibility. No, thought Cho, steering clear of Dr. Avery Brooks was probably the best thing for both of them.

Now if he could only stop thinking about her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Nice tree," said Cho sincerely, admiring the seven-foot scotch pine in Jane and Lisbon's newly remodeled living room. It twinkled and glowed with antique ornaments and tinsel. Christmas music floated softly from the stereo, and a cheerful fire burned brightly in the fireplace. The air was redolent of pine, cinnamon, baking quiche and barbecue sauce.

"Thanks," said Lisbon. "All Jane's doing."

She shifted Samuel to her hip, where he held a Vienna sausage in one small hand, half of which was on his face. Jason Wylie had arrived with a cute junior agent from Cybercrimes, Crystal, and the pair were merrily talking shop on the couch in front of the fire. Jane served them hors d'oeuvres in a silly sweater with Rudolph on it, whose blinking red nose made Samuel laugh.

"You know how he is when he sets his mind to something," finished Lisbon with an indulgent smile.

They both remembered his obsession with Red John years before, and they exchanged looks of nostalgia.

"Cho!" exclaimed Jane, moving toward his guest, tray in hand. "Glad you could come. Have a mini quiche, as per your request."

Cho reached out and popped one in his mouth, nodding his approval.

Just then, a knock came at the door.

"Here, go to your Uncle Cho." Lisbon handed Samuel unceremoniously to Cho. "You mind?" she asked belatedly. "I'll get the door."

Cho held the baby awkwardly at first, his mouth still full of quiche. Samuel was in the process of sticking the Vienna sausage in Cho's mouth when he heard a familiar voice in the small foyer. When Lisbon took Avery's coat, his heart stalled in his chest, his eyes feasting upon her simple green dress, which clung and moved about her body in a most mouthwatering way. The dress just met her knees, and his eyes helplessly wandered from her full breasts to her slim waist and hips, then down to her well-defined calves and tiny feet encased in black ballerina flats. Her hair hung in ringlets about her pretty face, her light eyes sparkling as she and Lisbon introduced themselves at the door.

Avery paused in mid-laugh when she beheld Cho where he stood by the Christmas tree, casual in a lightweight black sweater and jeans, baby Samuel in his arms.

"Well, Kimball looks like he just ran into another light pole," murmured Avery to Lisbon, as she hung her guest's coat on a nearby rack. "Didn't Mr. Jane tell him I'd be here?"

Lisbon shook her head apologetically. "My husband is not one to pass up a chance to uh, _surprise_ people. It's the showman in him."

"Showman?"

"I'll fill you in later," promised Lisbon.

Avery's eyes were still on Cho's, who was turning his head to avoid eating Samuel's generously proffered snack. She laughed in spite of herself as the soft sausage smashed against Cho's cheek.

Lisbon smiled. "I'd better go rescue poor Cho from my son. Please, come on in and help yourself to Jane's famous barbecued smokies."

Avery chuckled, following Lisbon back to Cho. She retrieved Samuel, apologizing to Cho for the mess, handing him a napkin from a side table. Cho absently wiped at his messy cheek.

"I'll just get Sammy ready for bed," Lisbon said, although she guessed neither Cho nor Avery heard her, so enmeshed were they in each other's presence. Lisbon shook her head and met her husband's eyes across the room, who was chewing on a quiche, watching his handiwork with obvious satisfaction.

"I didn't know Jane had invited you," said Cho, trying to keep his tone level.

"I can see that. He told me you were going to be here though." Avery's heart picked up speed at her own temerity. _Okay_ , she thought to herself. _I guess this means I'm all in._

Cho's eyes widened at the implication of her soft words. "Oh," he managed.

Jane chose that time to welcome her, and if Cho hadn't wanted to hit him before, he had to struggle to restrain himself now for the consultant's untimely interruption.

"Avery! So glad you could make it," Jane exclaimed jovially. "You know Kimball, of course. Please, meet Jason Wylie and his lovely friend Crystal Snow."

Avery smiled as she held out her hand to the younger couple, who rose from the couch to greet her.

"Yes," said the cute blonde, "that's really my name. Nice to meet you, Avery."

"Likewise."

"There's plenty of food," said Jane, indicating the spread on the coffee table. "Can I get you a drink? Beer? Eggnog? Wine?"

"Eggnog, if it's non-alcoholic," she replied. "Unfortunately, I'm on call."

"My wife thoughtfully provided both," said Jane. "Make yourself at home while I get your drink. When Teresa comes back sans child, we'll get to the party games."

Cho frowned, and Jane shrugged off the man's annoyance with a grin.

"I love games," said Avery.

"I figured you did the moment I met you," said Jane, smirking a little at Cho, who was effectively trapped into playing, whether he really wanted to or not. Jane moved off to the kitchen then, whistling along with _Jingle Bells_.

"Oh, I hope we play charades," commented Crystal.

"Not if Jane is playing," said Wylie. "He'll win every time." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "He can read minds."

"No he can't," countered Cho.

"Have you ever played cards with the man?"

"Only once," said Cho. "He cheats."

Jane returned with Avery's glass mug of eggnog. She sipped it while Jane watched her reaction.

"Hmmm," she said, delighted with the rich drink.

Cho's eyes were drawn to her mouth, and he swallowed over his tight throat.

"It's the extra nutmeg," said Jane. "No one ever puts enough to my taste."

"Well, this is excellent,"

She took another drink, and when her pink tongue swept over her upper lip, Cho felt it in his groin.

Lisbon came back into the room, her arms laden with board games.

"I thought we were playing charades," protested Jane.

"No way am I ever playing any kind of guessing games with you," she said. "You use your Jedi mind tricks way too much. Neither will we play any trivia games or anything remotely to do with poker."

"Aw Lisbon, I've said a million times that there are no such things as psychics—or Jedi, for that matter. But there _are_ such things as sore losers," he said with a wink, kissing her cheek fondly. The rest of the company laughed.

Jane barely avoided her good-natured slap when he took the games from her hands, moving quickly to the nearby dining table. He began taking votes on what they should play, while Cho admired the smooth mocha skin of Avery's bare arms, the way her slim surgeon's fingers daintily held her drink.

And so they embarked upon an epic game of _Apples to Apples,_ Cho loosening up considerably with the fun and laughter that ensued, or perhaps it was partly due to the four beers he consumed. At any rate, while he didn't become immune to Avery's tantalizing perfume, he certainly enjoyed sitting next to her at the table, his knee occasionally touching hers. Once, she placed her hand on his wrist in shared amusement, and he felt it burn into his skin like a hot brand. He met her laughing eyes and knew in that moment that he was hopelessly lost to her once more.

She must have noticed his sudden seriousness, for her smile faded, and she squeezed his wrist with concern.

"Excuse me," he said, rising from the table. "I need some air."

The party watched as he left the table, all who knew him stunned by Cho's uncharacteristic discomposure, save for Jane. He could see the struggle in the younger man's face, could empathize. It had taken Jane years to take a chance with Lisbon, to find the right time, to believe that he was good enough for her.

The front door opened and closed, sending a brief rush of cool air into the room.

"It is sort of warm in here," said Lisbon. "Shall we take a break?"

"Yeah," said Wylie. "Any more of that cheese dip, Jane?"

"Sure. Follow me." The men left for the kitchen.

Lisbon and Crystal looked at each other, then at Avery.

"Maybe someone should check on Cho," suggested Lisbon quietly, though she made no move from the table to do so herself.

"He looked a little pale," said Crystal.

It had been obvious the whole evening that Avery and Cho were smitten, and while Crystal and Wylie had no idea of their past, it was pretty apparent to everyone that there was something between them.

"You think I should go to him?" Avery asked uncertainly.

"Definitely," said Lisbon and Crystal together. The women all chuckled, breaking the tension a little.

Avery took a deep breath and rose. "Okay."

Lisbon smiled at her reassuringly. "I doubt he'll be mad at your intrusion."

She nodded and left them, pausing to take her coat and Cho's leather one from the coat rack, which she recognized from the night before.

She found him standing near the pond, the moon glinting off his black hair. Their breath puffed out like smoke, and she could feel her shoes sinking into the soft, damp earth. He heard her coming, heard the dry reeds rustle as she made her way through the still evening.

"Hey," she said, handing him his jacket. He slipped it on without comment. "What happened in there?" she asked into the silence.

"I didn't know you were coming," he blurted.

"Do you want me to go?"

He turned to look at her, but she couldn't make out his expression. Her face was toward the moonlight, so she knew he could see her uncertainty.

"No," he said quietly.

"Do you want me to stay?"

"I don't know."

"Well then," she said simply, words failing her. She moved to leave.

"Why did you come?" he asked. She stopped, turned back to him.

"Because I wanted to see you again."

"Why?"

She sighed in frustration. "I heard Teresa say you were the best interrogator she's ever known. Is this part of your shtick?"

He realized he was being an ass, and he turned sheepishly back toward the pond, and stared at it, dark and fathomless in the night.

"Sorry," he muttered.

She reached out for his arm, and she noted how he stiffened at her touch.

"Honestly, I wanted to see if there was anything left for us, Kimball. I can sense you are still hurt by how things ended between us. But we were kids then; we didn't know what the hell we were doing—either of us."

"You never wrote to me. Never called," he said, and there at last was the root of all his pain and trepidation.

"My dad wouldn't let me," she whispered brokenly.

"What?"

"He said that if I contacted you again, he wouldn't help me go to college. He said he'd disown me. And also…"

She hesitated, trying to find the words.

"What?" he repeated. "What else did that bastard say?" She could feel his cold anger, colder even than this freezing Texas night, and Cho the man was much scarier than Cho the teenage boy had ever been.

"He-he said he would call a friend he knew with the Oakland PD, would tell him to start following you, start harassing you as a gangbanger till you slipped up and landed in jail. I believed he would do it, and I didn't want anything to happen to you. I loved you too much, Kimball."

Cho considered her words, weighed their validity. It would explain a lot, if she were telling him the truth.

"I tried to find you when I got away to college, but all I heard was that you had joined the Playboys. Your parents had moved away."

"I was in Juvie," he said. "I had stolen another car, but my luck ran out." He wondered then if Avery's father had had anything to do with that. But he couldn't blame Sergeant Brooks anymore. Getting caught was what had gotten Cho off the streets. He should probably thank the man.

"Oh," she said. "I'm sorry."

"I was an idiot kid. My parents moved away in shame, said I was on my own. When I got out, I stayed with my uncle, worked, got my GED. Then I enlisted in the Army."

"Then the FBI?"

"Well, by way of the California Bureau of Investigation for ten years. Long story how I ended up here."

They were both quiet now, Cho amazed that Avery still had this power over him, could still get him to confess his feelings in a way no one else ever could. That was probably one of the main reasons he had fallen in love with her. One of the reasons he still felt that helpless pull toward her.

"Jesus," he said under his breath, one hand going to his face. He flinched when made contact with his sore nose, dropped his hand.

"It still seems like yesterday," she said after a moment. "Being with you. I tried you know, to get on with my life. Everyone said first loves weren't the real thing, that I would find a man to make me forget you. That never happened. I dated sporadically in college, in med school. I never felt with them what I'd felt with you, so I went on a lot of first dates. Becoming a doctor, then _being_ one has consumed my life. Whenever I felt like I was missing out on a personal life, I just threw myself into my work. That's been enough. Until I saw you last night, and all the years seemed to just…fall away. Am I being naive here, Kimball? Thinking there's any hope for us after all that has happened, after all this time has passed?"

Avery's heart was pounding in her chest, her eyes filling with tears. She felt like a teenager again, helpless in a way she never was as a doctor. Telling him these things she'd longed to for decades was scarier than her first emergency surgery had been, when she'd held someone's life in her hands for the first time. Now, she supposed, Kimball was holding hers.

She gasped when she found herself suddenly in his arms, the smell of leather, the outdoors, and his subtle cologne enfolding her. His cold hands rose to her cheeks, then slid into her hair. She trembled, but not from the cold.

"Kimball," she managed breathlessly, before his lips took hers.

It was like they had never parted, and the sweetness of it made them feel young and free and wildly excited. Their mouths seemed to remember what their brains had mostly forgotten, molding to each other like they had in the days when they'd spent hours merely kissing. He teased open her lips like he had once done in their old, familiar dance, tongues meeting and hesitant, before their mutual passion took hold, sweeping them away.

Avery mindlessly slipped her arms within his jacket, moving as close to him as she could fully clothed near a pond in winter. He was warm and strong as she remembered, but there was an additional confidence within him that could only have come with age and experience. She found this new man infinitely sexier than the boy had been. She was instantly aroused—as was he, she realized.

The tug of her lips into a smile made him draw away in curiosity. They were both breathing rapidly, pulses racing with desire.

"What?" he inquired unsteadily, his hands still buried in her silky curls. She could just see his dimples in the moonlight.

"I was wondering if we had gone back in time," she said, her voice low and shaky.

He gently kissed her full lips. "Me too," he admitted.

She rubbed his nose with hers and he let out a small grunt of pain.

"Oh, God," she said. "I forgot about your injury."

"It only hurts when you're not kissing me," he teased, and she giggled like the girl she'd long forgotten.

"I'd better do something about that then," she said. "I'm a doctor. I took an oath."

And then they were kissing again, but it wasn't the past anymore. It was the here and now and the possibility of a new future, where they had all the time in the world.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

From the window of their sleeping son's dark bedroom, Jane spied on the embracing couple outside near the pond. He grinned to himself, just as he felt Lisbon's slip her arms around him from behind, going up on tiptoe to rest her chin on his shoulder. She peered into the night to see what had caught his attention, and she smiled along with him, happy to see her friend obviously happy too.

"I never took you for a Peeping Tom."

"That's because I'm a Peeping Patrick," he said, pulling her hands more tightly around him. He nodded toward the window. "Look at them, Lisbon. It makes me almost rethink all that fate business."

She kissed him near his ear and he shivered. "I'll make a believer out of you yet," she whispered sensually, and he turned into her arms.

"Oh, I believe, Teresa," said Jane, glancing from his wife's loving face to Samuel in his crib. "More and more every day…"

 **A/N: One more chapter to go, coming soon. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas!**


	4. Conclusion and Epilogue

A/N: I'm very grateful for all the reviews. So glad people are enjoying this fic. Now, for the conclusion. Thanks for reading.

 **Chapter 4**

It was a freakishly warm Christmas Day, and Cho reached into his pocket for a handkerchief to wipe his brow. Hard to believe a week ago there had been an ice storm, he marveled. Crazy Texas weather. But with the storm had come Avery, and despite the fact that he still drove the borrowed company SUV, and his black eyes were now at the mottled yellow and purple stage, everything since that night had been incredible.

Since he'd kissed Avery at the Janes' pond, he had tried to see her every day. Their schedules didn't mesh well, however, for as she was going to work, he was just leaving. But he managed to bring her that snobby coffee she liked on his way home, and was rewarded with frenzied, passionate kisses in the hospital stairwell. They would talk on the phone in the mornings before he had to get ready for work, and he would lie in bed, reveling in the sound of her sexy voice, in the wonder of getting to know her again on an entirely different level.

But now it was Christmas Day, and, if he didn't catch a case, they would both have the three-day weekend off. Cho planned to spend most of that in bed with her, though he hadn't broached the subject of sleeping together. It was certainly implied in their wild kisses, in the way they looked at each other and couldn't keep their hands off one another, even when they weren't alone. He would touch her arm in the ER waiting area before he handed her her coffee, would watch her eyes give away much more than gratitude; there was definitely an invitation there. Just thinking about renewing that aspect of their relationship had him hot and hard, and the warmth of the day, the suit and tie he wore, not to mention the nervous prospect of spending the holiday with her parents, didn't help cool him down any.

Cho's parents had long since passed away, and being an only child had left him only his uncle and cousins back in Oakland, and his closer, adopted FBI family here in Texas. Avery's parents both still lived in Austin, and meeting them again terrified even the hardened FBI Supervisory Agent Kimball Cho. But Avery had invited him in the hopes that enough time had passed that all would be forgiven, that they might both put that painful chapter behind them and begin their new life together truly unencumbered.

As Cho pulled into the upper middle class neighborhood, he cranked up the air conditioning and wiped his brow again. The moment he turned into the circle drive of Avery's parents' two-story Victorian, she trotted down the front porch stairs to greet him. She was wearing a red plaid skirt and white blouse, her hair pulled back into a bun at her nape, though curly wisps had escaped to float about her temples. He held her tightly, kissing her cheek, inhaling her sweet fragrance. She smelled deliciously of cookies.

"Merry Christmas," she whispered into his neck, and he felt warm all over again.

"You're beautiful," he managed over the lump in his throat. She flushed pink, and he held her tighter still.

Sensing they were being watched from the window, he pulled reluctantly away.

"Don't be nervous," she said with a reassuring smile.

"I'm not," he lied, and he knew she didn't believe him, though mercifully she didn't comment. Instead, she took his hand to lead him up the steps of her parents' house.

"Wait," he said, moving back to his vehicle. He opened the back seat and took out a bottle of expensive single malt scotch in its fancy box, and a large bouquet of peppermint roses. He pulled one out of the bunch and gave it to Avery, who grinned and inhaled its rich scent.

"Brown-noser," she teased, using an insult he hadn't heard since they were kids.

He grinned and shrugged. "I'll need all the help I can get."

She didn't dispute him, which only increased Cho's apprehension. His smile faded.

Avery's mother met them at the door, a small, pale woman, still elegant in a winter white sweater set, her grey hair in a classic bob. She smiled, and her familiar green eyes sparkled at the sight of the lovely Christmas bouquet.

"For me?" she asked, her voice warm and welcoming. "How thoughtful, Kimball. Please, come in."

"Mrs. Brooks," he said politely.

He followed Avery's mother past the black and white checkerboard foyer, his hand clutching Avery's.

"You certainly have grown up since that neighborhood boy in the baggy blue jeans and A's jacket," Mrs. Brooks was saying.

"Yes, ma'am," said Cho.

She led them into a large living room, where a few other guests were laughing and talking, sitting on the comfortable brown leather furniture, drinks in hand. In the large wingback chair nearest the fireplace, sat Avery's father. In his sixties, he was still very much the imposing man he had been when Cho had last seen him, though his dark skin had acquired considerably more wrinkles. He still wore his graying black hair in a close-cropped military cut, and when he rose, he hadn't lost his straight-backed Marine Corps bearing. Cho was not a tall man, but he was no longer intimidated by anyone who towered over him, having tackled many a suspect up to a foot taller than himself. Cho bravely stuck out his hand.

"Captain Brooks," Cho said respectfully.

Cho had done his homework. He'd used the FBI database for personal reasons to investigate the Brooks family, figuring he could justify it from a perspective of personal safety. Last time he'd seen the man, he'd wanted to kill Cho with his bare hands. He'd discovered that Avery's father had worked his way up the ranks through thirty years of service, retiring as a Captain, having fought with distinction in both Desert Storm and Iraqi Freedom. After his retirement from the Corps, he'd worked for the Austin branch of Homeland Security, leaving just before Cho had joined the local FBI branch.

Avery's mother was still a professor of American Literature at the University of Texas at Austin. They had both moved up in life from their lower middle class beginnings in Oakland. Mrs. Brooks had been a junior high English teacher in an inner city school before they'd moved to Texas. Their beautiful home was a testament to their success, as was their brilliant trauma surgeon daughter.

"Agent Cho," replied Captain Brooks. The older man's grip was very firm, but Cho didn't even flinch.

Captain Brooks released his hand, then addressed the company at large.

"Last time I saw this guy, I was kicking his gangbanger ass out of my daughter's bedroom."

"Daddy!" Avery gasped.

"Raymond!" chastised Mrs. Brooks simultaneously.

But the rest of the group laughed good-naturedly.

"And I probably deserved it," said Cho, surprising everyone, including himself. "But that was a long time ago." He reached for Avery's hand, and she took it proudly.

Cho met Captain Brooks's eyes with quiet determination.

"I suppose it was. Avery tells me you're with the FBI now."

"Yes, sir."

But Cho realized that Captain Brooks had probably used his own connections with Homeland security to check him out as well. Cho was proud of his record, both in the Army and in his state and federal service. A man in the captain's position would likely respect what he had discovered there. Cho's nervousness abruptly abated, and he remembered that he had nothing to fear from this man anymore. Avery was a grown woman, and while she wanted her parents' approval, Cho didn't think she would let him go a second time. As a matter of fact, he had the sneaking suspicion that she would now choose him over her father, if it came to it. He felt himself stand a little taller as this thought occurred, and he pulled Avery closer to his side.

Captain Brooks must have seen the barely perceptible change in Cho's demeanor, for Cho saw the grudging respect in his gaze. They had reached a silent, tentative understanding.

"Look what Kimball brought you," said Avery, breaking the tension of the moment. Cho held out the scotch. Captain Brooks's eyebrows rose in appreciation as he took the gift.

"Well, well, well." He held up the bottle to show his other guests. "This is a man who knows his liquor."

There was a chorus of agreement from some of the other military types in the room and their wives, old friends of the captain's.

"Have a drink with me later," said Captain Brooks softly to Cho. Then he turned to his wife. "Molly, is that ham ready yet? Jimmy is starting to look like he's out of MRE's."

Cho and Avery were the last to leave the living room, Avery keeping him back as the others filed past toward the formal dining room.

"You okay?" she asked.

Cho let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He smiled a little, giving her a brief flash of dimples.

"Yeah," he said. He bent and kissed her cheek. "Let's eat."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later that night, as they drove back through downtown Austin, the couple was quiet as they contemplated the evening. Avery couldn't have been more pleased. All seemed to have been forgotten by her father, in light of Cho's successful career. Her mother, who had always been supportive of her decisions, had taken her aside and praised her for her choice in such an accomplished man, who obviously cared for her. Avery had hugged her tightly in gratitude, tears in her eyes.

"How was scotch with Daddy?" she asked, squeezing Cho's hand where he held it over the center console.

"Interesting," he said noncommittally.

She waited a few beats for more details, but was disappointed.

"That's it? That's all you're gonna tell me?"

Cho's lips quirked. "Yep."

"You two were in his study a long time…" she prompted. But he wasn't relenting.

"Yep."

In truth, Cho's time with Captain Brooks had been a supreme test of patience. The captain had poured each of them two fingers of the scotch—which had been exquisite, if Cho said so himself—and Cho had been ordered to sit down in an overstuffed chair across from the older man's.

"I'm not going to say I'm happy about this turn of events," Captain Brooks said. "Your juvenile record was appalling. Grand theft auto. Assault. Resisting arrest."

Cho didn't even bother to point out that those records were supposed to be sealed.

"Yes," agreed Cho.

"And there's still the little matter of how you took advantage of my daughter."

Cho stiffened. He might have been many things in those days, but rapist wasn't one of them. "It was consensual."

"So she claimed at the time."

"We're both adults now," Cho pointed out. "I've more than paid my debt to society." He didn't need to defend his record to this man.

"But you haven't paid _me_ ," said the captain, moving to the edge of his seat in agitation.

"What do you want?" He couldn't exactly restore his daughter's virginity.

"I want a guarantee."

"Of…?" he asked, though Cho had a pretty good idea.

"That you will serve, protect and defend my daughter, of course."

"There's no question," Cho insisted seriously. "I love her."

Captain Brooks gave Cho another one of his deep, assessing stares, and the younger man had no trouble meeting it. Satisfied, at least as much as he could be with the man courting his only daughter, Captain Brooks poured himself another two fingers of single malt.

"If you hurt her," Brooks added ominously, "I'll kill you."

"It's a felony to threaten a federal agent," said Cho wryly.

"Ha," snorted the captain. "So arrest me."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Avery surprised Cho and invited him to her place. It was a beautiful condominium with a view of Lady Bird Lake and downtown Austin. She'd also chosen in for the proximity to the hospital where she worked. She told him the code at the gate, and he entered the numbers on the keypad, committing them to memory. The high rot iron gate slid open, and he drove through it, parking where she directed. As they entered the upper level of her home, Cho felt his heart accelerate. This would be their first time to be completely alone together, without worry of work or meddling friends and family interfering.

Avery flipped on the light.

"Nice place," he said lamely, nervousness making his voice raspy.

"Thanks," she said, and he could tell she was on edge as well. "You want some wine?"

"Sure."

While she was getting it, he wandered to the balcony, marveling at the lights of the city. She had an amazing view. He opened the French doors and stepped out into the night. It was cooler now, though still unseasonably warm for December. He took a few deep breaths.

She soon joined him, handing him a glass of Moscato.

"Thanks."

They sipped the sweet wine for a few minutes, before Cho took their glasses and set them on the balcony railing. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her with all the pent-up tension of the day, with the longing for what he hoped would happen between them this night. She returned his kisses with equal ardor, leaving Cho no doubt that they were on the same page.

He found himself being led back inside, their mouths fused as she moved him down the hall, to the bedroom, the full moon shining in through the open window blinds. Her deft, surgeon's hands loosened his tie, while his were busy unbuttoning her white blouse, then pulling the bobby pins from her hair. Soon they were both down to their underwear, Cho lowering her gently to the goose down duvet.

"I love you," she whispered. "I know it's probably too soon—"

He actually laughed, the sound full of joyous incredulity.

"No," he said, quick to reassure her. "It's been entirely too _long_ since I heard you say it. And ever since I saw you again, I've realized it's been you I've been missing in my life. Every relationship I've ever had has been tinged by the knowledge that you were still out there somewhere, maybe even waiting for me. I would try to suppress that feeling, say I was being stupid, but I would always find a way to sabotage my relationships. I wouldn't fight hard enough to make it work, or I'd end up in a situation that I subconsciously knew was doomed to fail."

He gently kissed her full lips. "I still love you," he said. "I've never stopped."

He could see the faint tracks of her tears glistening in the moonlight, and he bent to kiss her wet cheek. He smiled down at her.

"Now, if we're through with all this unnecessary talking, I think we have a lot of catching up to do."

She smiled back, her hand coming up to caress his face. "Then shut up for once. Geeze, Kimball, all you do is talk, talk, ta—"

He muffled her mouth with his kiss, and their shared laughter soon dissolved into moans and sighs of pleasure.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Later, they lay in bed as their pleasure cooled upon their skin. Soft lamplight bathed them, the bottle of Moscato empty on the nightstand. Cho felt a little drunk, but more because of the feel of her body beneath his and the headiness of her scent, than the wine. He looked at where Avery's head rested on the pillow beside him, her hair spread out and tickling his bare chest. Beneath the covers, her hand rested on his firm stomach. She liked the way it trembled from her touch.

"You've learned a few things since we last, uh, met," she said almost shyly, thinking of the way his tongue had brought her to new, dizzying heights of pleasure.

"Since yesterday?"

She chuckled. "I wouldn't know. I actually meant since 1990."

She reached up to caress his hard, muscular arms, marveling that even with her two hands she couldn't fully encircle his biceps. Cho remained straight-faced, but his eyes shone with masculine amusement as she tried.

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I think you made me throw my back out again with that last move of yours. Been dating acrobats lately?"

"A whole troupe of them," she teased.

"Well that's gotta stop," he said, going up on one elbow to look at her, his other hand smoothing her hair from her face.

She nodded, kissing his stubbled jaw. "That'll be easy…I only want you."

"Good," he said, and she loved the proprietary gleam in his dark eyes.

Then he was kissing her again, cherishing her with his body, bringing her to ecstasy with his mouth. They had come full circle, Cho thought, as he joined with her once more-an act both achingly familiar and wonderfully new. She had been his first, and, God willing, she would be his last.

It had taken them twenty-five years to find each other again, and the relief and rightness of it made him almost giddy, in a completely uncharacteristic, non-Cho-like way. No one would have suspected that when he'd lost Avery Brooks, he had lost himself, had closed himself off from the rest of the world, from love, from pain. But when she had rescued him from the ice storm, she had also saved him from a continued life of self-imposed silence and isolation. He felt himself changing, the icy barriers he'd erected about himself giving way to the romantic, carefree man he had always known was buried deep inside.

Cho no longer had to look for true love in classic romantic novels, or settle for finding meaning in only his work. No, he realized, love and meaning were right here beside him, in the deep emotion that shone from pale green eyes, in the hands that drove him wild with desire, in the heart that beat in tandem with his, filling the silence and welcoming him home.

 **THE END**

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Epilogue**

 _ **Three months later**_ **…**

Cho drove down the winding gravel road to the Jane cabin, frowning a little when a rock kicked up and hit the windshield of his new blue Camaro. He made a mental note only to drive the SUV out here in the future. At the end of the road, he came across an idyllic scene.

The Jane family was enjoying the warmth of an early spring Saturday. Patrick Jane was outside, sawing a two-by-four as it rested on two sawhorses, continuing his never-ending home improvement project. Little Samuel played in the sandbox Jane had built for him, while Lisbon lay in a hammock between two tall oak trees, the familiar manila folder containing the newest FBI Most Wanted list in her hands. If he wasn't mistaken, Lisbon's usual flat stomach seemed to have rounded over night. Cho suspected he'd be looking for a temporary replacement for his top agent in say, five months.

"Cho!" said Jane, glancing up as Cho got out of the car.

Lisbon sat up and smiled, swinging her legs to the ground. "Hey! This is a nice surprise." Then she frowned. "Did I miss a phone call?"

"No," said Cho. He held out a pearl gray envelope.

Lisbon glanced at Jane, who grinned knowingly. She slid open the envelope with a fingernail, then pulled out a wedding invitation. She gasped in surprised happiness.

"No way!"

Cho no longer held back his grin. "Way," he countered.

Lisbon opened the invitation and scanned the details. " _Next month_? Wow, you guys aren't wasting any time, are you?"

"We've wasted twenty-five years already," said Cho solemnly.

Lisbon embraced him then, blinking back tears that she naturally attributed to her current condition.

Jane moved to pat his friend on the back, his smile at its widest.

"A wise decision, my friend."

Lisbon stepped back, wiping at her eyes with the backs of her hands. "Sorry. I'm just so happy for you."

"The invitation comes with a caveat though," said Cho, eyeing Jane ominously. "No more interfering in my life."

"Now, Kimball, I don't think I need point out how well my _last_ interference worked out…"

"That was just dumb luck," said Cho. "I was planning on calling Avery anyway, after the ice storm."

Jane rolled his eyes dramatically. "Sure, you were."

"Anyway, we thought we'd have a little engagement get-together, now that I cleared it with her family."

"You mean her _dad_ ," teased Jane, and Cho blushed slightly.

"Did he give you his blessing?" asked Lisbon.

"His exact words were: 'I suppose she could do worse.'"

Jane laughed. "Sounds like a ringing endorsement to me."

"Yeah, I'll take it."

Jane stuck out his hand. "Well, congratulations. And I promise not to interfere again. I think you two kids can handle it from here."

"Yeah," Cho agreed, shaking his hand. Then he was treated to his second Jane family hug of the day.

"Avery and I would love it you would all be in the wedding. Sam should be walking well enough to carry the rings, shouldn't he?"

"Sure," said Lisbon after a nod from her husband. "We'd be honored, all of us."

"Great. Rigsby's signed up for best man, but Avery insists on there being three groomsmen and three bridesmaids, so Wylie's next on my list of visits today. I believe Avery will be in touch with you soon, Lisbon."

She smiled. "Great. So long as I don't have to wear anything pink, I'd be delighted."

Cho actually chuckled. "I don't think you have to worry about that."

He looked at his two friends, hoping that he and Avery would be as happy as they seemed to be.

"Well, see you Monday, Lisbon. Jane. I'll let you know the details of the engagement party when I do. Avery's mom is planning it." He turned to leave.

"Bye, Kimball," said Lisbon. "And congratulations, truly."

"Thanks for coming all the way out here to share the great news," said Jane.

They waved as Cho drove away, and Jane wrapped his arm around his wife's thickening waist.

"You had your fingers crossed behind your back when you made that promise not to interfere, didn't you?"

"Yep," said Jane, kissing the top of her head. "You know me so well, my love…"

 **A/N: I hope you enjoyed this story. It was nice to be back writing for this fandom. Wishing you all a healthy and happy New Year!**


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